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Nester’s face was long and angular, her eyes dark and widespread. While Kayla’s mother had had cornflower blue eyes, a creamy sooth complexion and a smile that made you think you were the only person in her world.
    They were different in other ways, too.
    Her mother couldn’t stay in one place long. Kayla remembered coming home from school; excited she’d found a friend only to see her mother throwing their things in boxes for another move. Kayla couldn’t count how many times that scenario had played out in her short life.
    As far as she could tell, her aunt had lived in this same house all her life. Despite the fact that the sisters had nothing to do with one another all these years, Aunt Nester seemed to accept her. But did she believe her story?
    When her aunt had helped her with a shower last night, then tucked her into bed, Kayla had seen the questioning look in her eyes. She’d also seen the warmth and kindness.
    With or without help, Kayla intended to succeed.
    She padded silently to the bathroom. She would have to formulate some kind of plan. But first, some physical necessities cried for attention.
    As she pumped her breasts, watched her milk slide down the sink, tears threatened. She had to stop this and think.
    On the cabinet, she found a new pair of jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her aunt must have gone to the store earlier. Her heart swelled with gratitude. Coming here had been the right thing.
    She put on her new clothes. They fit perfectly. And she suddenly felt a little better. Looking in the full-length mirror, she realized how she had changed. Though her jailers had forced her to eat, she’d lost weight. Not just pregnancy fat, either. It had been a long time since she’d been this thin. Her hair hung dark and limp over her shoulders. Her eyes, which she’d always considered her best feature, were wild and afraid. Her lips looked as if they never smiled.
    Tamping down the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, Kayla brushed and combed her hair, tucking the long strands behind her ears.
    She didn’t exactly keep up with the news, but she’d never heard of a kidnapping quite like hers. She’d read where a crazy woman had wanted a child, so she cut open a pregnant woman, took the baby, then left the mother to die. She’d heard of black market baby rings, where babies were taken and sold like a commodity. She’d heard of babies stolen simply because someone wanted one.
    But she’d never read or heard of kidnappers who took the mother before the baby was born, delivered the child, then allowed the baby to breast feed for weeks before they took him away.
    Leaving the bathroom, she heard voices from the front of the house, a man and another woman. Her heart raced.
    Kayla crept down the hall. If it were the police, she’d scoot out a window and disappear. She wasn’t going back to be hammered with stupid questions that were more like accusations, and she would not be locked up again.
    Or had the kidnappers found her?
    That powerless feeling she had lived with for weeks assailed her.
    She peeked through a crack in the door to the kitchen. Her aunt was at the stove. She seemed nervous. Beside Aunt Nester was another woman, smaller, darker, and a little younger. She had a nice, friendly face, dark graying hair. Her aunt kept throwing anxious glances toward the other end of the kitchen. Was that where the man stood or sat?
    “I don’t have any chores for you today, Luke. But I’m sure Rosie has a long list.” Her gaze skittered back toward the other side of the room. “Maybe you’d better get to them.”
    From across the room came an easygoing voice. “I have time for a cup of your great coffee.” He paused. “Maybe a couple of those pancakes.”
    His voice was deep and throaty—his chuckle friendly.
    Obviously, Aunt Nester knew them both. So why did he make her so nervous?
    Kayla edged around the door to get a better look, but didn’t see the small ceramic frog used as a doorstop until